


Saltwater Brew

by prismsakura



Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Bisexual Paul Matthews, F/M, Gen, Implied Paulkins - Freeform, Mentions of Drowning, Siren Emma Perkins, ancient greek au, i mean they are sirens so, mention of death of a loved one, mentions of missing relatives, mentions of murdering people, siren au, though it's very subtle, though they don't get together, very brief mention of cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:22:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23126950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prismsakura/pseuds/prismsakura
Summary: Emma blew a stray lock from her face, growing bored out of her mind. Honestly, curse the gods with making her the way she is. They made a siren who hates sitting and singing all day long. Who does that?A sadist, probably, thought Emma. Which is, accurately, what most of the gods are. That's what she's learned anyway.Sure, she would admit, when you first start out as a siren you have fun watching the male sailors plummet to their deaths, or drowning anyone who managed to survive. But after a few hundred years or so it becomes boring. At least, to Emma it does. The other sirens don't seem to tire of it at all. She wonders why.Oh, and there's the fact that killing people isn't exactly the best hobby to do in taste. In Emma's opinion, the sailors should be grateful they're being spared from living any longer, but she recognizes the fact that, strangely, people would prefer to live a little longer in this cruel world.Paulkins AU where Emma is a siren. Set in Ancient Greek times. Based off @sliceofmaggpie's mermay drawing on tumblr.
Relationships: Emma Perkins & Jane Perkins, Paul Matthews & Emma Perkins, Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Comments: 7
Kudos: 48





	Saltwater Brew

Emma blew a stray lock from her face, growing bored out of her mind. Honestly, curse the gods with making her the way she is. They made a siren who hates sitting and singing all day long. Who does that? 

_A sadist_ , _probably_ , thought Emma. Which is, accurately, what most of the gods are. That's what she's learned anyway. 

Sure, she would admit, when you first start out as a siren you have fun watching the male sailors plummet to their deaths, or drowning anyone who managed to survive. But after a few hundred years or so it becomes boring. At least, to Emma it does. The other sirens don't seem to tire of it at all. She wonders why. 

Oh, and there's the fact that killing people isn't exactly the best hobby to do in taste. In Emma's opinion, the sailors should be grateful they're being spared from living any longer, but she recognizes the fact that, strangely, people would prefer to live a little longer in this cruel world. 

"Emma!" a cheery voice called. 

The siren in question groaned. _Gods, not another one_ , she pleaded uselessly. 

"Emma!!!" The voice was louder and much more urgent, though somehow, it still kept its chipper tone. 

"I'm coming!" Emma called back, exasperated. She promptly turned her tail into legs before standing up. She took her time making her way to the strangely smooth cliff. 

Upon arriving she saw the rest of the sirens looking and grinning in the direction of a ginormous wooden ship sailing towards the direction of the rock. Emma sighed and walked towards the crowd before plopping down and stretching her legs. She still didn't understand why they had to show them off instead of just keeping their tails. Not that she didn't like the legs, she really saw them as a convenience, but seeing as the songs did the trick anyway, there seemed to be no need. 

"Men are most likely to jump if we show them off," Zooey had explained with a big, dumb grin that Emma wanted to punch. 

"But men will jump if we sing anyway," Emma had argued. 

"So? They will still be more likely to jump if we have legs," Zooey insisted. Emma had left the conversation at that, worried that she would lose more brain cells if she kept it up. 

The ship wasn't too far now, and the chattering around Emma grew more frantic and excited. She saw Nora and Zooey climb on the highest rock. 

"Alright everyone!" Zooey called in her high, joyful tone that Emma oh so despised. "Let's go get this one!” 

Everyone except Emma cheered. Emma, in turn, groaned, grateful that it was drowned out in the noise. If anybody heard her, they would surely her ask if there was something wrong, then continue to talk for a long while Emma slowly dissociated. 

"Okay everybody!" Nora called. "Ready?” 

"READY!" the crowd yelled. 

"ready," Emma slurred. 

"Let's sing!" Zooey yelled. 

Emma took a deep breath and sung. 

Their voices immediately blended together, creating a single tune that flowed seamlessly through the air. The harmonies wove together and made their way to the unassuming sailors. The melody captured the men as a net would catch helpless fish. 

Emma saw the men jumping off and cringed inwardly, but didn't stop singing. If she did, the song would break, and she would get in trouble. So she had to wait. 

Suddenly, Emma saw something. A man had walked off the mast and fallen, but he had plummeted straight down. Her eyes lit up; that meant that sailor was still alive. 

_Please end soon_ , Emma thought. 

Thankfully, the gods had mercy on her, the first in a long time. The ship seemed to have a small amount of sailors, so the song ended about a minute after the man Emma saw jumped. 

“Okay girls!" Zooey said, her legs morphing back into a tail, "Have fun!” 

Emma took a running start and dove right off the cliff. She heard a chuckle from Nora as Zooey exclaimed, "Looks like Emma's excited!” 

You absolute buffoons, Emma thought, snorting as her tail returned. She plunged head-first into the water. 

It didn't take Emma too long to find him. He was about 20 feet away from the cliff's face, thrashing and flailing around in intense panic. Emma caught him just as he was trying to swim back to the ship. 

"Hey!" Emma said, trying to catch his attention. The sailor whipped his head towards her with wide eyes. There was a beat of silence before the man spotted Emma's tail. His eyes grew impossibly wider as he screamed and tried to swim away. 

"Wait, hey hey he- oh." Emma stopped as she saw the man was gasping and coughing. "I think you swallowed some water.” 

The man's movements became more sluggish, and Emma realized that she needed to act soon. And that she needed to sing. 

Emma wasn't concerned with making him too entranced, she knew that without the others the song wouldn't do much. She just needed to make him drowsy or knock the guy out so she can easily drag him to her cave. 

Emma sighed and took a breath. "Hey Mister Business, how do you do?” 

She continued singing, watching the sailor's eyes droop. She quickly made her way to the foot of the rock, careful as to not stop singing or let go of the man. 

As soon as she saw the hole on the side of the island, Emma moved ever faster. She only slowed the once she reached the mouth. She crawled onto the small patch of land in front of it and through the small entrance and turned her tail back into legs once she reached the dry part. 

Emma laid the man down onto the cloth bed on the floor of the cave. She found the flint and lanterns she had salvaged from dead sailors and shipwrecks and quickly lit all of them. Emma then scrambled back to the sailor. He didn't seem to be breathing. 

"Oh come oooonn," Emma said under her breath. 

She pressed her hands to his chest and started to pump it. Water came spurting out of his mouth and the man began to cough and sputter. Emma quickly withdrew her hands and sighed in relief. 

"Hey," Emma said, a relieved smile on her face.

The guy sat up and looked at her for a few seconds, trying to register what he was seeing. In this time Emma noticed his bluish-grey eyes, filled with wonder and fear. 

_Pretty_ , Emma thought, barely noticing it. 

The sailor suddenly realized what was happening and yelled again. He scrambled to the wall and shrunk, hugging it desperately. He stared at Emma with more panic in his eyes than the actual personification of Panic. 

"Hey, hey, don't scream!" Emma whispered desperately. "They'll hear you!” 

"Are you gonna eat me?” he asked, his voice meek. 

Emma blinked and laughed at the assumption. She failed to notice the blush that suddenly appeared on the sailor's face. "No, I'm not going to eat you," she said. "Really, you are already funnier than most humans I find. 'Eat you,' that's cute. No, I won't eat you, I promise." Emma stood up. "The others might if they hear you though, so I suggest you keep quiet." She walked over to a tarp covering something sitting on a high rock. She pulled it off to reveal a large chest. Emma opened it. "What can I getcha?”

"...so you're a nice siren?" the man asked, calming down considerably. He straightened his back and muttered, "That's new.” 

"Yeah, well this doesn't happen a lot," Emma said, rummaging through the chest. "I've only saved about... well, more than ten sailors over the course of a decade... or so." She made a face. "I wouldn't really know, I kinda lost track of time over the centuries.” 

"How did you know I was alive?” 

"Experience, buddy," Emma replied. "The sailors who fall straight down survive the most.” 

"Uh huh," the sailor glanced around, then looked back at Emma since there wasn't much to look at. "So, the other sirens are going to eat me?" He made an uncomfortable face. "I don't want that to happen.”

"Well, maybe." Emma took out a pot and dry firewood. "Soup?” 

The man was surprised. "Yeah, sure.” 

Emma took out more utensils and ingredients. "You see, we sirens choose what we want to do," Emma explained. "All of us lure sailors to their deaths. Although I-" She turned and tapped a ladle to her chest. "-am sick of doing so." She turned back to the food. "But some choose what to do with the bodies, just as they choose whether to live under or above water." Emma walked over to the water trickling in and filled the pot with it before walking back to the chest. "Some just take the sailors' stuff, either from their bodies or the shipwreck, or both." She put some firewood on the floor. "And sometimes... they eat the bodies.” 

"Oh," the sailor scrunched up his nose, which Emma thought was adorable. "Well, at least I was saved by you." He looked up at Emma. "Thanks, I guess.” 

Emma smiled. She turned back to the fire she started and started to cook the soup. 

"No problem." She chopped up some onions and dropped them into the pot. "What's your name?” 

"Paûlos," he said, "but I met a guy on my travels who called me Paul, so I've been going by that since.” 

"Paul. That's a nice name." 

"Thanks," Paul said, and smiled a little. "What- what's your name?" 

"Emma," she replied. She then turned back to the soup. "I'll be working for a while, so...hm.” 

Emma got up and took a stone bowl and a cup from the chest. She went out of the cave and returned shortly after, the bowl now filled with water. She then heated it and added some black grains. Paul tilted his head. 

"What is that... Emma?" he asked. 

Emma shrugged. "There was an Ethiopian guy who gave me this, said I should put these in hot water. I haven't tried it until now, so…" 

"Wait. How long have you had that?" Paul asked, concerned. 

Emma frowned at the bowl as she poured it into the cup. She was silent as she stared at it, trying to remember, then gave up and handed the cup to Paul. "A while," was all she said. 

Paul looked into the cup, then back at Emma. 

"Don't worry, I don't think you'll die from that," Emma said, adding more ingredients to the soup. "Those grains still seem to smell the same as when I first got them.”

Paul nodded and glanced back at the mug. Taking a leap of fate, he sipped the black concoction and savored it before it disappeared down his throat. 

"This... is actually pretty good, Emma," he said, surprised. 

Emma looked back at him, seemingly pleased. "Well, that's good then." She turned back to the fire. "Soup's done." 

Emma poured the soup into a different bowl and put a silver spoon in it. She handed it to Paul. 

“Thank you," Paul said, putting down the mug. He downed a spoonful and hummed in delight. "This is delicious!” 

"Thanks, I learned it from this Spanish sailor I saved once.” 

Paul nodded again as he ate a bit more. "Say, what made you want to start saving people? It's not a trait I've ever heard of from a siren.” 

"Well, Paul," Emma said, "I got bored.” 

"Bored of...?" Paul pressed. 

"Sitting and singing all day.” 

"...that's all?" Paul was confused. 

"Oh, and killing people is, I've heard, not exactly tasteful for your species.” 

"You say that as if killing people is a minor setback to you." Paul noted, concerned. He momentarily glanced at the entrance. 

Emma sniffed. "Don't judge me, we were trained from birth to kill, we're much less skittish with it than you human folk.” 

"That's understandable." He went back to eating the soup. "But you won't kill me... right?” 

Emma looked at Paul and softened. "No, I won't.” 

Paul nodded, still slightly on edge. He continued eating, taking a sip from his drink every now and then. 

"What gave you the impression I was going to eat you in the first place?" Emma asked. 

"Your teeth," Paul answered, his mouth full. He quickly swallowed. "They're very sharp." 

"Oh, yeah they are. We're all born with them for some reason.”

After saying this, Emma realized that Paul was still quite wary of her, though why she failed to see this until now was unclear. 

"Hey, look," she said, "I swear, if I wanted you dead, you would be dead by now. Normal sirens are barbaric in their own right. But I'm not normal. Hell, everything about me indicates that. I hate singing, and I hate causing other people's deaths against their will." She paused, and sighed inwardly. "Look, I'm trying to help, okay? And for me to do that, I need you to trust me. You're a smart human, you can do that, right? Wait-" she snorted, "-that sounded threatening. Sorry. Just... just know that, if I wanted to, I could just knock you out and kill you whenever I want, so resistance is futile, alright? But please assume-" she closed her eyes and held up her hands, "-I'm perfectly safe.” 

Paul nodded. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense," he said softly. He paused before handing the now empty bowl to Emma. "Can I just... have more please?" he implored sheepishly. 

Emma smiled in relief and nodded before taking the bowl and refilling it. 

She gave back the bowl. “Anyways, you’ll be staying here a few days, so get comfy.”

“Wait what?” Paul suddenly stood up, nearly spilling the soup and knocking over his mug on the floor. 

“Careful with that stuff, they’re about a hundred years old,” Emma said, removing the pot and adding more wood to the fire. 

“I can’t stay here a few days, I have to go back!” Paul exclaimed, panicking. 

“If you go back now, the others will see you.” Emma stood up and faced him. Her face was serious. “Then they’ll kill you. The safest thing to do is to stay here while I build a raft for you.” 

“But I-“

“No buts, buddy.” Emma grabbed his arms. “Listen Paul, think about the implications if you go out there. Think about them.”

Paul stared at her, afraid. Emma wasn’t sure what he was afraid of. 

“Paul, I’m perfectly safe, remember?” Emma reassured. “They’re not."

Paul finally sighed and nodded. “Okay Emma,” he said. “But I need to get out as soon as possible.”

“Agreed,” Emma said. She let go of Paul’s arms. “Now, stay here, I’m going to get supplies from your ship.” 

“I don’t suppose I can take the ship, can I?” Paul said, sitting back down. 

“Nope,” Emma said simply, standing at the entrance. She crouched down and took one last glance at Paul. She smiled. “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” 

Her legs morphed back into a tail and Emma crawled through the opening, leaving an open-mouthed Paul.

☆ 

A few days passed as Emma built the raft. Over time she and Paul had time to bond. Strangely, Emma felt endeared to his personality. He was a shy guy, very polite. He seemed to be afraid of offending Emma, though there was really no need. Paul, on the other hand, soon became aware of the fact that, just as Emma said, she would have killed him in at least the first few days if she really wanted to. So he grew more relaxed around her, growing to appreciate her company. Paul even told bits and pieces of his life. He had hailed from Athens and was interested in theatre as a kid. 

"Theater? Like, the thing Zooey organized one time?" Emma said. 

"What thing?”

"It was like storytelling, but everyone randomly sang and made weird movements sometimes," Emma explained. 

Paul made a face. "That sounds weird. And terrible.” 

"It was," Emma agreed. 

"Well no, I just like storytelling in general," Paul digressed. "I loved watching the plays in the Temple of Dionysus and the festivals. I wanted to become an actor one day. But my dad said no.” 

"Why not?” 

"He wanted me to become a sailor. Said it made more money, or whatever. So I honored his wishes. I got a job shipping different supplies abroad. There was just one thing I overlooked." He chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I was not sea compatible.” 

"What do you mean?" Emma asked, eating some grilled steak.

"I got seasick easily," Paul said. "And I'm not the adventurous type, really. I'm not even that willing to move from Athens. I'd be content staying in my hometown.” 

"But does it make you happy?" Emma inquired, taking a large bite out of the beef. 

She chewed for a while before she realized Paul hadn't answered. She looked at Paul, who seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. 

"Does it make me happy?" he asked. After a while he shrugged and settled with, "Well, I don't really know, Emma, I guess I never questioned it. I had a home, a dad, an interest, although I never really acted on it... well, I had a life. I never asked for anything else.” 

"Did you have anyone else?" Emma implored. "A girlfriend, a boyfriend...?” 

"Definitely not,” Paul said, laughing at the idea. "I liked people but... I'm not exactly the ideal male.” 

"Well, you seem like a nice guy, Paul,” Emma said. “You probably deserve to follow your own passions.”

“Well thank you Emma,” Paul said, smiling a little. He continued to eat his own slice of cow. 

Conveniently, Paul had decided to help Emma with the raft as he had some experience with woodworking. Emphasis on the “some.”

“I tried it out once,” Paul said, tying together two planks. “Got several splinters and they hurt a lot, so I ended up quitting.” 

“Seems like you’re not exactly the type of guy to do anything dangerous,” Emma teased. 

Paul chuckled. That was another thing Emma liked about him for some reason. It was probably unrelated to the fuzzy feeling in her chest.

Oh Tartarus, she’s not stupid. She knows it’s probably directly related to the fuzzy feeling in her chest. 

“No,” he said, finished tying together the planks, “I guess not.” He aligned it to the rest of the tied wood. “The only reason I’m doing this is to speed up the process.”

Oh great, there was a pang in Emma’s chest. As if this could get any better.

☆ 

On the night they finally finished the raft, the two sat side-by-side on the tarp Paul had been sleeping on for the last few days. They stared at the raft and the oar sitting on top of it. The raft honestly wasn’t that impressive. It was a bunch of wood tied together securely in the shape of a rectangle. But there was a sense of accomplishment nonetheless, and the two appreciated it in silence.

“It’s… bad.”

They both nodded in mutual agreement.

“Well,” Paul noted. “If this kills me then you’ll have accomplished your actual purpose.”

Emma snorted. “Well, if this breaks it will probably break early on, so I might be able to save you.”

“Let's hope for the best,” Paul said. 

Emma nodded. “So, you want to go now, or…?”

“You know,” Paul yawned, “I think I need some proper rest before I go. Don't want to collapse while in view of the island.”

“True.” Emma stretched. “Well Paul...” She stood up and smiled down at him, though there was an underlying emotion behind her eyes. Paul couldn't quite identify what it was though. Emma, on the other hand, knew exactly what it was, and hated it so, so much.

“Let’s get ready for tomorrow.” 

Paul settled down as Emma blew out all of the lanterns. As she reached the last one, she glanced back at Paul, who was lying down on his tarp, a folded piece of cloth under his head. He glanced back at Emma.

“Goodnight,” she said, smiling at him.

Paul smiled back and closed his eyes.

As Emma lay down on her own cloth, she had the desire to rip that weird feeling out of her chest and beat it up. It was unnatural. She had never felt this before, and if she did, it was a long time ago and she didn't remember.

Emma sighed and lay silently in the dark for a few hours, unable to sleep. Tiring of the effort, she got up, deciding that maybe a late night swim would not be unfavorable. 

She exited the cave and regained her tail. Emma plunged into the sea. She recalled a man who told her once that water was cleansing. Perhaps he was right. Emma felt some weight lifted as she swam freely through the warm water. She ran her hand along the seafloor, disturbing some fish along the way.  
  


“Sorry,” Emma mumbled. She lifted her hand and ascended a bit.

Emma circled the island, growing a little weary. But still, the exercise was freeing in a way. She wondered why she didn’t do this more. 

Emma closed her eyes, letting the feel of the water flow around her. She twisted her body through the sea, marveling at how easy it felt. 

Someone abruptly grabbed ahold of Emma’s shoulders. Her eyes shot open to see a face grinning widely, hair like tentacles swimming around wildly as if it had a mind of its own. Emma yelped, startled, and swam off as fast as she can.

“Emma! Wait!”

Emma halted. She knew that voice, despite having not heard it in a century. Could it be…?

Emma turned slowly. She saw a figure of a woman with… normal brown hair with black highlights. Similar to hers, though longer. She seemed taller than Emma. Her eyes were a deep dark brown. 

Emma couldn’t believe it. It _was_ her. 

“Jane?” 

Jane smiled and swam towards Emma, who was trying not to cry. 

“Hey Emma,” she said.

☆

“I see your little crib hasn’t changed much,” Jane joked, looking around the cave. “Except of course, a raft and a guy. Who is not dead.” 

“Yeah,” Emma replied, plopping down on her makeshift mattress. Jane followed her. “What happened to you anyway? You’ve been gone for a century!” 

“Ah.” Jane plopped down beside Emma. “About that.”

“You didn’t tell anyone. You disappeared without a trace. We all thought the worst.” Emma couldn’t contain herself any longer. “Why did you leave? I was afraid! Afraid I’d never see you again! I-“ Tears spilled out and she started sobbing. 

Jane enveloped her in a hug, rubbing her back. “Hey,” she whispered. “I’m here.”

“I missed you so much,” Emma sobbed into Jane’s chiton. 

Jane only sighed and nodded. Guilt was starting to weigh on her shoulders. 

After Emma had calmed down a bit, Jane had offered to make something for her. Emma had asked for tea and guided Jane through the steeping process. 

“So, I’m going to explain why I disappeared, but to be honest? I don’t think you’re going to like it,” Jane confessed, leaning on the platform where the chest was. 

“That sounds promising,” Emma said sarcastically. Now that her sadness was taken care of, all that remained in Emma was light bitterness. 

Jane sighed and chewed her cheek. “So, truthfully…” She inhaled and looked Emma in the eye. “I… met someone.”

Emma raised a hand. “Stop, stop. I want you to stop right there.” She looked at Jane with an unimpressed raised eyebrow. “You left because you met someone?” 

“He washed up in my cave!” Jane protested. “He caught me by surprise. And besides-“ She walked over to Paul, freaking out Emma a little, and gestured toward him. “-I don’t think you have the right to question it.”

Emma’s face reddened madly. Jane smirked, a little amused and feeling victorious. 

“Oh shut up,” Emma snapped. “He’s not the first one I’ve saved.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jane said, checking the water in the pot. 

“Yeah, well- wait. You know?”

“Yeah. Sometimes I’d see you zoom underneath the water carrying some guy in your arms. Then I’d hear some grunts and you talking to a deeper voice several nights later. My cave’s not far from yours, you know. And I had nighttime swims too. Or walks, depends on what I felt like. Oh look.” Jane crouched down next to the pot, where the water was boiling. “The water’s ready.”

Jane grabbed a ladle and poured the water into two mugs with tea leaves. She handed one to Emma, who fumed silently. Jane sat back down and blew on her own tea. 

“But from what I’ve gathered, this guy right here-“ She looked at Paul, then glanced back at Emma with a smile on her face. “-is very different.”

“Why did you come back anyway?” Emma said, trying to steer the conversation away from the present topic. 

Jane’s smile disappeared immediately, and Emma almost felt bad.

Jane looked into her cup. “Mortals don’t last very long,” she muttered. “I should’ve known, but… I don’t know, I thought they’d live for at least two hundred years? But they don’t. Xanthos, he became… old and wrinkly at a much faster pace than I was expecting.” Jane shivered. “But I still loved him in a way. So I stayed by his side until he… died.”

“Oh,” Emma mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

Jane chuckled sadly and shook her head. “Don’t be,” she said. “It happens to all humans, I just wasn’t knowledgeable enough. Not…prepared.”

Emma took a sip out of her mug and patted Jane on the back, unable to recall any other types of comfort. 

“Thank you sister,” Jane said dryly. 

“Don’t thank me,” Emma snarked back. 

Jane giggled and smiled at Emma. She took another sip of her tea and glanced back at Paul. “So,” she began. “What’s the deal with him, huh? He seems pretty cute.”

Emma nearly choked on her tea. She ended up spitting some of it back out. “I-I guess? I mean,” Emma cleared her throat, trying to ignore Jane’s grin. “He’s like a… calf. Fragile.Sweet and shy. Polite.”

“You seemed pretty endeared by him,” Jane said, still grinning. 

“You had a lucky guess!” Emma exclaimed. 

Jane chuckled. “True, you got me there.” She drank her tea. “I just wanted to get back at you.”

Emma sighed and tried to finish the rest of her tea in peace.

“You probably want to go with him, don’t you?” 

“What makes you think that?” Emma said.

“Well, have you ever felt like this with any other poor sailor you’ve rescued?” Jane asked.

“…no,” Emma admitted.

“I imagine it must be disconcerting for you.”

“It’s terrifying. And unnatural. I’ve encountered so many other people before, why did this-” she stabbed herself repeatedly with her finger, “-only come out now?!” 

“You become attached… sometimes,” Jane stated, drinking more tea. 

Emma took in the sentence, moving it around her head and getting the feel of it. “Yeah… yeah I guess you could say that.” 

“Trust me, I know what you’ve been through,” Jane assured. “When I met Xanthos, the feeling I had… well, I actually had a similar reaction to you.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Emma asked. 

“I… didn’t want to risk anyone knowing.”

Emma felt hurt from that. “You didn’t trust me enough to tell me?”

“Look Em, I’m sorry-”

“No, don’t bother,” Emma interrupted. “I’m too tired to get mad at you. So I forgive you, though that was a jerk move.”

“Thank you Emma,” Jane sighed. She went back to drinking tea.

“Okay, well, maybe I do want to go with him,” Emma admitted quickly, “but what if the same thing that happened to you happens to me?”

Jane shook her head. “It won’t happen to you, Em.”

“What do you mean?”

“You hate the island.”

“Undoubtedly,” Emma agreed.

Jane snorted and continued, “All of the siren’s lifelines are connected to it, tied to it. Like… there are strings on us that are also attached to the island. As long as we stay here, that string won’t break, we won’t grow old. I never hated my life, so my string never broke, just became longer. But your string…” She gently took Emma’s wrist and traced an invisible thread from it. “It’s already frayed.” Jane made an exploding motion with her hand. She put Emma’s wrist down. “If you leave, you become mortal. So you’ll just be dying slowly with your fella over there. Hardly any emotional pain.” 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to handle that,” Emma said, uncomfortable. 

“I think you have a while to get used to it.”

Emma huffed and set down her mug, folding her arms. “How do I know you’re not just getting rid of me?”

Jane chuckled. “I’m telling you this so you can do what you want. I’m not telling you to leave, that’s up to you. But I do know that you want to leave this life, you just needed a reason.”

Emma glanced back at Paul and sighed inwardly.

Jane noticed this. “See? You agree.”

Emma glanced back at Jane. Technically, all of the sirens were sisters, but Jane was the only person Emma really regarded as a _sister._ They were very close, and when Jane left, Emma felt like she had lost something important to her. 

“What about you?” Emma asked softly. “I mean, I could visit you from time to time, but… if I go, I’ll be gone for a long time.”

“I realize that, and I’m not entirely happy with it,” Jane said. “But I _know_ you, Em, you want to be free. _You_ started saving sailors just to defy what you were created for. You hate being a siren, and nothing would make you happier than simply not being one. And then you meet this guy that you may really like and want to spend more time with him, so maybe, you think, you want to go with him. And you’ve found your chance Em! This guy-” She gestured wildly to Paul, “-is your chance! To be truly happy!” She took Emma’s hands in hers. “And you should be happy! Honestly… that is something everyone should have.” 

“True happiness, huh?” Emma said, bowing her head. 

Jane nodded, smiling. “Well, if he turns out to actually be a jerk or becomes too boring, you can always come back.”

Emma chuckled, then nodded back slowly. “I… do want to go.”

“Then you go with him tomorrow. You fulfill your dream.”

“But… you just came back.” Emma looked at Jane with sad eyes. 

“If you get homesick, you can always visit,” Jane assured. “Your little sailor friend can help you. But you definitely won’t regret leaving, I know it.”

Emma smiled, relieved. She chuckled and lightly punched her sister’s shoulder. “You better miss me.”

“Oh trust me, I will,” Jane promised.

The two sisters embraced each other. 

☆

Paul opened his eyes blearily. He yawned and sat up, trying to process the sight. To his surprise, Emma was still asleep, and seemed well-rested. And even more surprising was the presence of another woman hugging Emma in her sleep.

Well, in Paul’s case, surprising, yes, but also terrifying. 

Paul screeched.

Emma immediately woke up and stood facing Paul. “What is it?” she screeched back, panicked. 

Paul pointed at Jane. “Who is she?” he whispered desperately.

Emma relaxed and looked at where Paul was pointing. “Oh, Jane?” she asked. 

Paul nodded fiercely. 

“Oh, she’s my sister. She went missing a long time ago. Apparently-” Emma shot a stink eye at the sleeping figure, “-she ran off with a _cute sailor who washed up in her cave,”_ she said in a mocking voice. 

Paul snickered, and Emma smiled again. _You know,_ she mused, _Jane could be right._

“I might follow in her footsteps in a while,” she said. “Coffee?”

“Yes please,” Paul said, sitting down again. “Wait- what?”

“What?” 

“‘Follow in her footsteps?’ You’re gonna run off with someone? Who?” 

Emma processed his words for a second as she collected water before bursting out in laughter. “Who else do you think?” she said. 

Paul reddened. “Wait, you want to go with me? Why?” 

“Well Paul,” Emma said, starting a fire, “I don’t think it’s gone unnoticed by you, but I hate being a siren very much.” 

“So much so that you’re willing to run away?” Paul inquired, surprised. “I didn’t think you hated it that much.”

“Well I do, and I…” Emma thought of what to say. “...decided to leave for once, with you.” 

“Can’t you go on your own? You don’t exactly need a boat to leave.”

Emma didn’t reply. She only sat by the heating water, desperately trying to think of an excuse. 

“Weeeell… I guess… some things are worth it,” she said, turning to smile softly at Paul. “And, I mean, I kinda had a job rescuing sailors, but Jane has graciously offered to take over for me,” she quickly added. “I’m free. So I guess a little adventure won’t hurt.” 

“You know I’m not fond of adventure, Emma,” Paul pointed out, a little amused. 

“If you go _anywhere_ in this great expanse of water, you are asking for adventure,” Emma said, sprinkling in the black grains. 

“I… guess that’s true,” Paul muttered. 

“So, I believe-” Emma poured the drink into a mug and walked over to Paul, “-I’m going with you.”

Paul couldn’t help his smile as he took the mug. Emma saw this and felt the return of the fuzzy feeling. 

_Goddammit,_ she thought, but didn’t make any other internal comment. 

Emma heard a grunt from the other side of the cave. Jane was awake.

Emma looked back to see Jane sitting up and yawning. She looked over at Paul and Emma watching her curiously. Jane grinned. 

“Well good morning, you two,” she said, standing up. “What’s this you got here Emma?” She stared at the brew in the pot.

“It’s a concoction… of sorts,” Emma explained. “Paul, this is Emma.”

“Hi,” Paul greeted quietly. 

“Hello there, human.” Jane greeted back. “Emma has told me quite a lot about you.”

Emma blushed. “Jane!” she hissed. 

“Sorry,” Jane said teasingly. “Mind if I have some of this drink?”

Emma huffed, the heat retreating from her face. “Sure.” 

The day went on normally, Emma collecting fruit and vegetables for them to eat. Paul took some and placed them in an old purse from a shipwreck for the travel. Jane hung out in Emma’s cave, striking up small conversations with Paul while Emma salvaged for supplies just in case. She cooked stew and found bread from the most recent ship. 

The sun settled below the horizon and turned the sky dark, allowing the stars to come out. Emma peeked out of the cave, hoisting the raft behind her. Paul held the other end back in the cave as Jane carried their supplies behind him. 

Emma glanced towards the top of the island. She heard the chattering of the sirens die down and the lamps going out. She saw a few of the others diving down into their own caves underwater. Soon everything had quieted down and the moon was in the sky. 

“Alright, everyone else is gone,” Emma whispered. “Push!”

Paul grunted as he heaved the raft out of the hole. Jane followed after them, watching the environment waringly.

“Everyone’s asleep?” Paul asked. “No one will hear us?”

“Well,” Emma grunted, pulling the raft fully out of the hole, “if we’re quiet enough. Some of them could still be awake, but they’re pretty far from us so… no. Hopefully.”

The raft plopped into the water with a quiet _sploosh_. It bobbed up and down as the waves pushed it around. Paul turned slightly green. Emma caught his expression.

“Paul?” she asked, seemingly concerned.

“Yeah?” Paul squeaked, turning to look at her. 

Emma smirked and jumped into the middle of the raft, wobbling slightly. 

_Sploosh, sploosh._

The raft bobbed more frantically. Paul gulped. 

“Come on,” Emma said, walking to the edge. “Or would you rather stay here with the murder maidens?” 

“Of course, I can take care of you if you choose to stay,” Jane offered, shrugging. Emma shot her a dirty look and she chuckled. “Seriously though Paul, it’s not so bad. Try to suck it up. Or if you can’t, just puke into the ocean.”

“Don’t, you’ll inconvenience the fish.” Emma held out her hand to Paul and smiled comfortingly. “Let’s go.”

Paul nodded. “Okay,” he muttered, still slightly unsure. He took a deep breath and took her outstretched hand. Paul stepped onto the raft. 

Emma smiled wider. “Alright, and the other foot…”

Paul did as he was told and put his other foot on the raft. Immediately the vessel was put off-balance, making Paul yelp and flail his arms, staggering backwards, threatening to fall. 

Emma panicked, grabbing both of Paul’s arms and pulling him to the middle of the vessel, determined to keep balance. She gasped and tried to calm her breath. Emma looked up at Paul. 

“Are you okay?” Emma asked. 

Pau’s eyes were wide and he was breathing hard. He was panic-stricken. Paul looked down at Emma’s concerned face. 

“Y-yeah,” Paul said. He was starting to calm down. His mental stability was that of the raft, slowly going down to gentle bobs on the sea. Paul realized he was clenching Emma’s arms too tightly and relaxed them.

“Oh sorry,” he apologized.

“Oh no, no it’s okay,” Emma assured. 

After saying that sentence, Emma realized their exact position. They were grasping each other’s arms and staring at each other blank in the face. 

Emma blushed and awkwardly detached her arms from Paul’s. “Um, alright then,” she said. She took another glance at Paul before walking over to Jane, who was watching them amusingly. 

Jane, thank god for the small sliver of mercy in her, merely held out the bag of supplies and smirked, but otherwise said nothing. Emma very graciously snatched the package from Jane.

“Thank _you_ ,” Emma said.

Jane’s smirk morphed into a genuine smile. “You know, Emma, I’m actually really proud of you.”

“And that’s a surprise, now is it?” Emma joked. 

Jane chuckled and sighed. She looked at Emma and smiled, a little sad. “I hope you have a good journey. And a good life.” 

Emma smiled a little. “Thank you, Jane.” 

Jane spread her arms, inviting Emma. The latter accepted and hugged her sister tightly. 

Once they separated, Emma put down the bag of food and picked up the oar. She smiled, then grinned at Paul, feeling a little confidence build up within her. She grasped the oar tightly and lowered the paddle into the water. Slowly, but surely, she pushed it through the water.

The raft bumped against the land.

“Uh…” Jane said, “you’re supposed to row the other way.”

Paul, who turned a little nauseous again, nodded weakly. 

“Right,” Emma quickly corrected, a little flushed. 

She quickly pushed the oar behind her, and the raft started moving away from the island.

Emma truly smiled this time, and pushed it again. 

And again.

And again. 

Emma whooped happily as the few inches between her and the island became a few feet, then a few meters. She looked back at Jane, who was grinning too.

“Goodbye, Jane!” she called, waving happily.

Jane whooped too and waved back.

Emma grinned wider and glanced at Paul, ignoring the sudden yank in her gut. He seemed calmer now, and happier now that he was leaving the island and going back to his home. Emma was happy too. She felt it throughout her, leaving a warm feeling in her face, her torso. 

Yank. 

Emma grinned at the moon, feeling the wind brush her face. They were leaving.

_Yank._

Emma was rowing a raft away from the island she hated with a man she felt some sort of strong connection with. 

**_Yank._ **

It felt great. Emma was invigorated. 

**_YANK._ **

In a rush of joy, Emma suddenly turned towards Paul and took a step towards him. 

**_SNAP!_ **

Emma screamed as pain overtook her body. It flooded her mind. Some part of her - she wasn’t sure what - was being pulled from her body. 

“Emma?” she could faintly hear Paul say. “Emma!” he yelled. 

The siren screamed as the pain throbbed, spreading throughout her body. Emma’s vision dimmed and Paul’s panicked face started fading until all she could see was black. 

☆

Emma’s eyes opened to a dark night sky. The stars twinkled overhead, greeting Emma and her headache. 

Emma sat up and groaned. Most of the pain was gone, but some had apparently remained. She clutched her head and shut her eyes, hoping that it would help dull the migraine. 

“Oh my gosh Emma!” Paul exclaimed, dropping the oar he had been holding and rushing over. The raft wobbled, and Paul immediately halted to steady himself. 

“Sorry,” he apologized, now walking slowly towards Emma, “I’m still not used to how unsteady this is. An actual ship is much more stable.”

Paul gently kneeled down beside Emma’s propped-up figure and gently smiled at her. He clasped his hands. “Are… you okay?”

Emma nodded. “Yeah, my head hurts like Hades, but otherwise I’m alright.” 

Paul frowned and turned towards the supply bag. “Just lie down, alright? I’ll get you something to eat.”

Emma nodded again and lay down. She felt the bobbing of the raft as Paul moved towards the pouch and observed the speckles of light dotted across the sky.

“How long was I asleep for?” she suddenly asked. 

“Oh, um…” Paul, tight-lipped, tapped the rim of the bowl he held in his hand. “I think it was… two days.”

“What?!” Emma shot up and immediately yelped at the sudden sting in her skull. 

Paul turned to look at her, eyes wide. “Emma, don’t do that!” he squeaked. “Just lay down, please?”

“Mmhm,” Emma responded meekly, eyes closed. She lowered herself again, feeling the ache swirl around. 

Emma sniffed, then asked again, “Was it really two days?”

“Well, it might have been three,” she heard Paul reply. 

Emma sighed. “Zeus damn it. And we’re not near land?”

“There’s only two of us rowing this raft- well, one of me in the last few days,” Paul said. Emma heard a delicate trickle into a bowl coming from his direction. “And this is a very small vessel, so it’s no surprise we’re moving slowly. Here.”

Emma felt a nudge on her shoulder and opened her eyes. Paul was handing her a stone bowl filled with soup. 

“Get up slowly,” Paul implored. 

Emma did as he asked, propping herself up. She gratefully took the bowl from Paul’s hands and began drinking it. It was cold, but she wasn’t to complain - they had been in the middle of the sea for a few days, after all. 

“So… what happened to you?” Paul asked, his voice tinged with worry. “I was… really afraid you were dying. As if a god had smitten you.”

Emma lifted her head, licking some of the soup around her mouth. “No, I think…” She furrowed her brow. “Jane said that once I would leave, the connection between the island and I would sever.”

“Connection?” Paul inquired. 

“She described it like a thread, tying me to the life force of the island. It was already loose since I hated it there, but it wouldn’t fully cut off until I left for good.” Emma winced. “Which means… I’m not immortal anymore.” 

“Wait, you’re not?” Paul blurted. Emma detected disbelief as well as guilt in his voice. “I- are you going to be okay?” 

Emma shrugged. “I suppose so. Being a mortal can’t be that bad. I mean, you’ve turned out okay.”  
  


“Barely,” Paul mumbled, worry lines still etched into his face.

Emma noticed this, and quickly tried to reassure: “Hey, don’t feel bad about it. It’s certainly not your fault. I asked for this, and it’s honestly better than my crappy life as a siren.” 

Paul nodded, a relieved smile making its way onto his face. 

“Well, get some rest,” he said, carefully standing up. “I have to man the raft and see if anything wants to, uh, eat us.”

Emma smiled up at Paul. “Sounds good to me.” 

Paul lingered for a bit before walking over to the oars at the other end of the raft.

Emma finished her soup and put the bowl back into the bag. She gradually laid back down, hearing the gentle _splish, splish_ of the oars as Paul began to row. She took a deep breath and took in the sight of the stars twinkling down at her. She processed the fact she was now free. 

Emma was free.

Slowly, as the boat rocked her like a baby in a cradle, with the comfort the stars provided and the calming sounds of the ocean clouding her mind, Emma soon drifted to sleep.

Maybe, just maybe, the gods were kind sometimes. 


End file.
